Love, Mr Mistoffelees
by WaitingformyMunkustrap
Summary: "It's not even agony; it's nothingness. There is no way to truly describe it. I wouldn't wish it on anybody. Actually, that's a lie. I would wish it a million times over on the bastard who put us through this." Tragedy has struck the junkyard, and Mistoffelees wants all of you to know how he feels.


There's no feeling like what I felt. The only way I can describe it is like being impaled on a metal rod that's so hot it feels cold. You know how that happens? You get burned so bad, you go numb. It's not even agony; it's nothingness. There is no way to truly describe it. I wouldn't wish it on anybody.

Actually, that's a lie. I would wish it a million times over on the bastard who put us through this.

Maybe it's selfish of me, but I want everyone to see this through my eyes, to know what I went through. If you can't handle it, don't read it. Just stop here and go along your merry way. I honestly envy you.

* * *

There was nothing special about that morning. I woke up in the arms of the cat I love. I was happy. I felt safe.

Yeah, safe. What a joke.

I wish I'd stopped for a second to be thankful for what I had. Tugger wasn't perfect, but he was everything I needed, and he was mine. He was gorgeous, crazy, and incredibly protective of me. I loved him. Still do. So much.

I stepped out of our den, into the warm evening light. My black fur soaked up the heat that remained, as we were slowly slipping into a crisp night. I could feel it, and I smiled. Chilly nights were always my favorite. They were perfect for magic. While it's always fun, magic gives off a lot of heat, so it feels especially wonderful when it's cold. Tugger always slept in late, and I figured he wouldn't be up for a while, so I went ahead and wandered off by myself to play.

I was sitting on top of an old rubbish bin, laughing to myself about how funny it was to find a discarded rubbish bin in a junkyard, brushing up on my old card tricks, when I first heard the commotion. Demeter cried, "Macavity," like always. The ensuing scuffle sounded bad, so I hid.

I'm so ashamed to say I was initially only concerned about myself. I'm a small tom, after all, and even though I can hold my own with my magic, I was used to being protected. In the heat of the moment, it didn't even occur to me to be worried about anyone else. It wasn't the first time that red demon had attacked the yard, and we always came out on top. Why worry, this time? So I just protected myself and waited until there was silence.

Upon returning to the clearing, I found everyone scurrying about, gathering loved ones and tending to their wounds. Alonzo's eyes grew wide, when he saw me.

"Mistoffelees, thank the Everlasting Cat! Where were you?"

His words would have suggested relief, but his voice was full of panic.

"I heard the noise and just stayed away," I told him. "What happened? Is everyone okay?"

That's when Munk ran up to me. He wasn't "crying" per say, but there were tears rolling down his cheeks, and he smelled strongly of fear. I had never seen Munk cry. Not once. That's when I knew something had gone terribly wrong. I don't think I've ever been more scared.

"They took him," he rasped, barely able to form words between ragged breaths. "Misto, I'm so sorry. They took Tugger."

I don't even remember how I felt, just then. Everything was a blur. I just remember wondering, "Why him? What did Macavity want with him?"

I didn't pass out, so I've been told, even though I don't remember a thing from the next few minutes. The next thing I remember, I was in our den, curled up in bed, breathing in what remained of my mate's scent. I was definitely in denial. I was actually waiting, thinking he would walk in at any second. There had to have been a mistake. What did Tugger ever do to Macavity? Why would Macavity take him?

The next few days were a blur. No one else was missing or had even been seriously injured. It didn't seem fair. I knew I should be happy that no one else was hurt, but oh, I was so angry. That's when the self pity set in. Why me? Why my mate? I would always slap myself mentally, after that. I actually slapped myself physically, once or twice. I didn't need my own pity, Tugger needed it, not that it did any good.

That's when the helplessness set it. When we became mates, Tugger and I promised we would always be there for each other, loving and protecting each other. I couldn't protect him now. I didn't know where he was or what was happening to him, if he was even still alive. It killed me inside, the not knowing. That was the worst part. If I had known he was alive, I could have hoped, if I had known he was dead, I could have grieved. I had no closure, just limbo. I barely ate, because I actually couldn't keep much down. I couldn't sleep, except for occasional bouts of sheer exhaustion that left me unconscious for some period of time.

One day, Munk came to visit me in my den. It was a welcome change. Even someone as shy, aloof, and heartbroken as me get tired of being alone.

"I just don't understand why Macavity took him, you know?" I sighed. I didn't want to think about it, but I couldn't help but be constantly reminded that the cat I love was at the mercy, or lack thereof, of that psychopath.

"Misto," Munk began carefully, as if questioning whether or not to go on with what he was saying. "How many times have you thwarted Macavity's plans?"

I shrugged. "Several, now. Why?"

"I don't think Macavity came looking for Tugger. I think he came looking for you, but you weren't in the clearing, so...he took the cat that means the most to you."

"Get out."

"Misto?"

"I said, get out!" I shrieked, shaking with emotions. I couldn't stand the thought that I might be responsible for what happened to my mate, but once the idea was in my head, I knew it was true. To this day, I regret it. If I had just gone back to the clearing to help, Macavity would have taken me instead. I would have much preferred that. Not a day went by without Tugger that I didn't wish to take his place. I will take that regret with me to my grave.

Honestly, I don't even remember how long it took to find him. It felt like years, but Munk and Alonzo hadn't given up the search yet, so it really couldn't have been more than a few days. Maybe, a week or two. Like I said, I don't know.

I was sitting in the clearing, with Tumble and Electra on either side of me. They tried to make small talk, and I tried to participate. It was only the third or fourth time I'd even left the den since Tugger's disappearance. Everyone else seemed to be getting back to normal. I didn't think I ever would.

Alonzo ran into the clearing, shouting. I'm not sure what he said, initially. He seemed a little panicked, to say the least, and I was still as dazed and confused as I had been since the attack. Suddenly, he was right in front of me, Tumble, and Electra, and he was yelling at my friends to "Get Misto out."

"What's wrong? What's happening?" I asked.

" _Now!_ "

Tumble and Electra each took one of my arms and began leading me back to my den. I fought like hell, of course. "What the hell is going on?" I cried, pulling against their grip.

Tumble answered, "I don't know, Misto, but we'll all find out together."

The two of them were able to wrestle me into my den. We sat in silence for half an hour. Electra had her arms around me and was rubbing my back to keep me calm. Tumble held one of my paws. I wanted desperately to know what was happening. Was it Macavity? Did he come back for me? Why was I sent into my den?

Finally, Alonzo let himself in. He knelt down in front of me, placing a paw on my knee, and told me solemnly, "We found Tugger, Misto."

Ah, the familiar numbness of shock.

I sat up, out of Electra's grip. "Tugger? Is he okay? What's happening?"

"He's with Jenny and Jellylorum. He's alive, but he's really in a bad way. He doesn't want you to see him like this, unless he knows he's going to make it. This isn't how he wants you to remember him if he..."

Alonzo trailed off, but I got the point. It hurt more than I care to admit that Tugger didn't want to see me, no matter what his reason.

Those were perhaps the most agonizing hours of my life, knowing the love of my life was just a few yards away, not knowing if I would ever see him again. Tumble and Electra stayed with me the whole time. They're truly the best friends a cat could ask for.

It was almost morning, when Munkustrap and Alonzo came to my den. I looked up at them expectantly, my heart pounding out of my chest. "He wants to see you," Munk said.

It took me a moment to process his words. Tugger was alive. He was alive! And I was going to see him, at last!

I nodded and followed Munk and Alonzo to Jellylorum's den, where Tugger was. I slowly and nervously walked inside, unsure what I would find. Munk and Alonzo stayed outside, which I was thankful for. I needed some time alone with my mate. It was long overdue.

I found Tugger sitting in a pile of blankets, back against the wall. He was almost unrecognizable, not because of any major physical changes, but because he was simply not the same cat who I left sleeping in our den, all that time ago. The light in his eyes was gone. There was no mischievous smirk on his lips. He looked empty.

"Mistoffelees."

Even his voice sounded different. He had obviously taken a beating. He was covered bandages and bruises. He looked terrible, for himself. It broke my heart to see him like that.

"I'm here. You're okay," I said, quickly closing the space between us and kneeling down next to him. I reached out, eager to pull him into my arms and feel his presence, but his entire body tensed up at my touch and he all but threw me off him.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

I tried to steady myself and make sense of what had just happened. I don't know if I couldn't or just didn't want to, but I was at a loss.

"It's okay," I said. "I'm sorry. How do you feel?"

"Dirty," he spat, still with that same, far away look in his eye. He hadn't even turned to look at me, since I came to his side.

"What did he do to you?"

He didn't answer. That was the worst. I didn't know if anything I did would make him feel better or worse, so I just sat there, wishing he would tell me what to do, how to help him. We sat in silence for a long time. I was growing tired, and I could tell he was, as well. "Do you want me to get under the blankets with you?" I asked.

"Please don't."

"Oh."

He looked at me and winced. "It's not you, Misto. You _know_ it's not you."

"I know, it's just-"

And that's when I lost it. I couldn't handle it, anymore. I curled up and sobbed into my knees. My mate didn't want me to touch him, and I didn't know if he'd ever let me touch him, again. I was so sad, so hurt, so sorry for everything that had happened to him that I just fell apart.

When I finally willed myself to look back up at him, Tugger was facing straight forward again, looking emotionless, save for the tears gently dripping from his eyes.

Days went by with slow improvement. One step forward, two steps back. After a week, Tugger was finally able to touch me. It felt so good to have contact with him again. He was still broken and irritable, but I tried to ignore all that. I tried to look at the positives. Honestly, though? I still felt like shit. I faked it pretty well, though, until one day. I was talking to Bombalurina, and she said what I'd been afraid to admit to myself all along.

"He's not Tugger, anymore."

After that, I started to lose control. We started fighting. We both spent a lot of time crying. Once, he threatened to leave me. That was a wake-up call. Even after everything we'd been through, he was my world, and I couldn't bear the thought of losing him again. I guess, after that was when the real problems started. Despite all the other improvements he was making, he kept getting angrier, and I was so afraid of losing him that I lost myself.

It was three weeks after his return that he hit me, for the first time. Flat out punched me across the face with his fist. I could tell he felt guilty, but I couldn't tell if he felt as sorry as he did angry with himself for losing control. It wasn't about me, anymore. I felt like I barely existed, even when he rarely left my side.

It was another week before he hit me again, but, after that, he didn't stop. He was so lost and so angry. I should have known there was nothing I could do to fix it, but I just loved him too much to quit trying. I would still be trying.

Six weeks and two days. That's how long he had been back, when it happened. I don't even remember what started the argument; that's how stupid it was. It quickly escalated, though. I got sassy with him and he started yelling at me. I only yelled back once, and he struck me over and over again. He beat the living shit out of me, and...I'll spare you the details. I blacked out about halfway through the ordeal and woke up hours later, barely able to move. Tugger was sitting in the corner of the den, sobbing.

"I'm so sorry, Misto. I'm so, so sorry."

"Not sorry enough to not do it," I shot back.

I knew I couldn't walk, so I stayed in bed all night. When Tugger collected himself, he left our den, and I didn't stop him. Before he left, he said to me, "I'm so, so sorry, Mistoffelees. I love you. I love you more than you know."

When the sun set the next evening, Tugger still hadn't returned. I was able to sit up in bed, though I was still very sore. It was deafeningly quiet, with only the sound of my own breathing to keep me company.

My stomach twisted when I heard pawsteps entering the den, and I was surprised when Munkustrap instead of Tugger appeared. Time seemed to creep by at an excruciating pace as he stared at me with this...this _look_. I'm sure you know the one. It's the kind of look that tells you everything. You know exactly what they're going to say, but time won't move again until they say it. When Munkustrap walked into my den that night, I knew Tugger was dead.

"What happened?" I asked. "Was it Macavity? Did he come back for him?"

Munkustrap shook his head. He was dreadfully collected. I got the feeling he had known for a long time, before he worked up the nerve to come talk to me. "We found him at the bottom of a junk pile," he said. "He jumped."

* * *

That was three weeks ago. Everyone keeps saying it was suicide, but that's bullshit. No one else knew him like I did. This was murder. Macavity killed The Rum Tum Tugger, before he even got the change to kill himself. The cat I love was gone long before we realized it. Part of me knew that, but I just kept hoping that everything would magically go back to the way it was. I guess I learned the hard way that magic can't fix everything.

In case you haven't guessed by now, Macavity killed me, too. I am lost. I have never felt more alone. Without Tugger, there is nothing left for me, in this life. Macavity. Destroyed. Us.

As for that demon, I will see him in Hell.

As for the rest of you, well, thanks for reading.

Love, Mr. Mistoffelees.


End file.
